


Incendiere

by yukulele



Category: Magi (Manga), Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukulele/pseuds/yukulele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judal pays Sinbad's stuffy looking lackey (his words) a visit, bringing nothing but trouble, sharp words and sharper ice. Teenagers. Things get tougher for Ja'far when a crude wager is brought up, amidst uncomfortable implications and other nasty surprises.  (PWP)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incendiere

“Hey, where is he?”  
  
Ja’far had just returned to his room, the normally bustling Purple Leo tower now quiet as a tomb. He expected his room to be as such, but instead was greeted by the unexpected and frankly, deeply unwanted visitor.  
  
“What are you even doing here? Please tell me your intelligence network is so incompetent that you didn’t even know Sinbad is on a campaign.”  
  
“Hmm, is that so.” Judal feigned ignorance, although the small smile that played on his lips probably betrayed him. Whatever.  
  
“So there is no reason for you to be here- not that there is while Sinbad is here,” he said haughtily. It was a precarious situation, no doubt deliberately arranged so, and he was trying to find secure footing against the intruder.  
  
“Hah, I don’t need reasons.”  
  
You do need manners, Ja’far seethed internally.  
  
“So he left you behind, huh?” Judal said, cutting fast and straight to the point. Now it was Ja’far’s turn to fake cool disinterest, because that was _certainly_ not the case.  
  
“Left me in _charge_ ,” he corrected, but the way that insufferable smirk deepened alerted him that a figurative wall was coming up to meet his back, and fast.  
  
“In charge of what? Looking constipated?” Judal snickered at his own joke, ever on the balancing point between mockery and complete and utter havoc. It looked like the scales were starting to tip in a bad direction.  
  
“Look, you’ve had your go at me, you’ve flouted our security again, besides heckling Sin, it seems you’ve accomplished everything you normally come here to do, so if you would be so kind as to just-”  
  
Judal moved faster than Ja’far anticipated, off his own bed and nearly upon him before he could finish his request.  
  
“I-” Judal started, darting forward to seize the other’s robes, but grasped only air as the general leapt back just in time, hands already up his sleeves. “-am not-” Metal rang on metal as Judal’s wand made contact with the edge of an assassin’s blade. “-kind,” he finished, expelling a swathe of electricity at Ja’far, singeing the air.  
  
Ja’far dodged it, but just barely. His favorite potted tree did not fare so well, and he felt the burn of indignation along the cords still wrapped around his arms. He couldn’t alert Sin by activating the vessel, but without it he stood a grim chance. Yet, a small, but persistent voice in his head added, maybe it would serve him right.  
  
“Yet I’m not completely devoid of empathy,” Judal continued, looking mock offended at the other’s look of disbelief. “After all, I know what it’s like to be left behind. Taken for granted.” he said in almost a sing song, twirling that deadly wand between his fingertips while deftly dodging a blade that streaked through the air like an arrow. “Used like a tool.” He knew with the last jab, he had him. It was only a matter of a few more strategically launched splinters of ice before he had the man pinned to the headboard of his own bed.  
  
It irked him that Ja’far never activated his vessel. Not because he felt he was being underestimated, but rather it was just another example of his flawless fucking loyalty to that stupid monarch.  
  
In the fight Ja’far had lost the head piece that was part of his uniform, and he could feel warm blood on the back of his skull. It contrasted sharply with the cold burn on his wrists, as the magi’s cursed ice had crept past the point where it pierced his sleeves, binding his hands to wood. Blood dripped over his left eye from another scratch, but out the other he could see the his room was now in shambles. And tragically, Judal was still here.  
  
“Oooh, thought you might have gone to sleep on me there.”  
  
“Very funny.”  
  
“Yes, I agree,” he said smartly, sitting cross legged on Ja’far’s bed, admiring his own handiwork. It was a testament to his accuracy that nothing was pierced through, and the superficial head wounds didn’t count. Surveying his own little tableaux, with the dazed general at the center with his arms spread, like a pinned specimen, he asked, “Comfortable?”  
  
“Extremely,” Ja’far spat, dispensing with any reservations or pretenses. He became hyper aware of the stillness that permeated the tower; that he could scream for eternity and it would simply sink into the stone walls. Well, he didn’t plan on giving the other that particular pleasure. On the other hand, he wasn’t entirely sure what he could give Judal to make him leave.  
  
Judal was honestly of the same mind, not that Ja’far knew it. He was fueled by morbid curiosity and twisted boredom- and much like any teenager, procrastination in terms of other duties he would have to attend to in the future. Playing around with Sinbad’s lackey sounded like a good idea at the time, but with eyes brimming with black hate trained on him, he knew it had been an excellent idea.  
  
In the next moment, his face lit up as he remembered a certain bet he could now settle thanks to the novel circumstance.  
  
Disregarding the indignant protests, he gathered up the bottom of those criminally unflattering robes and pulled them up.  
  
“What in the world are you doing-”  
  
Judal’s expression after pulling off Ja’far’s undergarments was so comically disappointed Ja’far couldn’t help but ask what he expected to find. Predictably the other simply ignored him and launched into his own rant.  
  
“Fuck, Kouha was right. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a guy like him..”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“See, we had this wager on if you were a eunuch or not.”  
  
“Why- How did you even get to that-”  
  
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t look like such a freakin’ girl!”  
  
“Maybe you should shove it up yours!” Ja’far snapped, his face hot with humiliation. Privately he hoped Judal lost an exorbitant sum of money, but he had trouble enough coming to terms with the fact they had actually gambled on something like this. He tried to draw his knees together defensively, only to have them rudely pushed apart. “Hey!”  
  
“I dunno, I suppose it only takes a few seconds to fix this...”  
  
Ja’far let loose an unbroken string of expletives he hadn’t employed since his childhood, threatening a manner of vengeful mutilations.  
  
“Listen to that gutter mouth of yours. Really can tell what noble breeding you’re from,” Judal said, smiling with a cold brightness. “Don’t worry, your _assets_ are safe, Kouha would probably find out somehow,” he reassured him, although he still reached forward and squeezed, as if to make sure they were actually real, eliciting a sharp breath and new curses.  
  
His laugh was like steel on glass and he reveled in his new plaything. To his delight there was the kind of response he was looking for, delivering better cards into his hand each turn.  
  
“Is it because this hardly gets any use, it just can’t wait to get going?” Ja’far heard Judal ask, cruel and clever fingers wrapping around his stiffening cock. He wished in that moment it was the blood loss behind his light headedness and not the languid, teasing strokes that made his breath hitch every time he tried to speak.  
  
“Don’t do this-”  
  
“Admit it, it’s what you were gonna do anyway, am I right?” Crimson eyes glittered with malice, boring straight into his, disregarding what was true or not. It didn’t matter. He had him, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “You were just gonna jerk off and cry I bet.”  
  
“Where the hell do you _get_ this stuff?” Ja’far protested, trying to put his mind as far away from where he was, but those insistent fingers kept dragging him back.  
  
The magi left his question unanswered, more enraptured by the contrast of scarlet gracing those freckled cheeks against the dark rust of coagulated blood. He loved how it transformed, still innocent pink beneath a fragile barrier that once broken, deepened the hue to almost black. People just had so many colors and he wanted them all. Casually leaning a scarred leg over his shoulder, he ducked down and took the tip, already leaking thin precum, into his mouth. To his delight that shut him up for a moment (although coincidentally he couldn’t talk back either), and as he cast a cursory glance upwards, he saw the other had gone a torrid scarlet.  
  
If he could reach down to pinch himself, Ja’far would have, but the sharp throbbing in the back of his skull did the job of reminding him this was reality, however bizarre it was at the moment. Not to mention it was becoming increasingly difficult to form cohesive thoughts at all, not with the biggest threat to his life between his legs, taking more of him in his mouth with calculated slowness. But Judal wouldn’t hear him beg. Not on his life.  
  
Judal carefully kept his eyes locked on Ja’far’s, it wouldn’t do to miss the subtle flashes of emotion on that typically locked up face. It worked like a cobra’s gaze, forcing its victim into a horror stricken paralysis. And it was all worth it to watch it all crumble away, to listen as curses broke off into shallow gasping as he dragged his tongue from base to tip.  
  
Why, why him, and why now- the questions echoed in his head, ricocheting back to torment him. Why, with each errant graze of teeth, each playful swipe of the tongue, did the room seem to get hotter? Why did he feel so angry, yet at the same time he wanted to buck his hips shamelessly? Why did black hair shine violet, and the gleam of gold fit so well in his imagination? He wondered if that name would break or bind the spell woven into his nerves, threaded through his veins.  
  
He felt the familiar pressure of release in his groin as he bit sharply into his lower lip while a ragged groan was dragged from his throat, formless in the air,  neither name nor expletive as pleasure ran with pain in a muddy streak. A spasm like he’d never known ran through his legs, arching his back as he came, nails cutting crescents into his palms as he clenched his fists.  
  
To his credit Judal doesn’t choke, but rather predictably draws away and spits up on the covers with apparent disgust. Still he smirked even has drew the back of his hand across his mouth. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”  
  
“What... What are you talking about?”  
  
He laughed, it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Oh you know. That stupid king- ‘if only it was him sucking my-'”  
  
Some reserve of strength must have escaped the other’s insidious grasp as he found it in himself to land one perfect, concussive kick against the other’s temple. Judal flew off the bed, but rolled to land on his hands and feet like a cat.  
  
“That hurt.”  
  
“It was supposed to, didn’t you know?” He managed to bite out with shame hot on his heels, as the rest rapidly cooled.  
  
Judal scowled, that eerie air of adult awareness now evaporating to leave behind a familiar childish temperament.  To Ja’far’s immense relief, it also looked like his appetite for torment had been slaked, and he was going to depart. It did beg the question of how he was going to leave him, however.  
  
“Aren’t you going to at least get rid of these?” he asked in a tone that rested precariously between demanding and polite. His wrists had long gone numb and undoubtedly there were bruises to be had tomorrow morning.  
  
The magi cast one last look at the man, a stinging, dark contempt rising up in his chest. Even after all that, practically slamming the his stupid face against the truth, he sat there so high and fucking mighty, as if being Sinbad’s somehow made him truly better . Just because he was on Sinbad’s side- no, just because he was Sinbad’s tool , he felt like he could act as if he had some sort of moral high ground. It grated his nerves to the quick, because after all, once Judal had Sinbad, wouldn’t all his possessions fall to him? It appeared his mission of mercy (or so he liked to call it) was in vain.  
  
Ja’far had cast that initial question partly in jest- he didn’t really expect any favors from Judal. Yet the look he got from him stung more than any insult he had cast so far. It was pure contempt- not that that was unusual- but laced with an unexpected... disappointment?  
  
“Ice melts,” the teenager said simply. “Din’cha know?”  
  
And he disappeared seamlessly into the night, on dark wings that beat with no sound.  
  
\---  
“Thanks for holding down the fort, Ja’far.”  
  
“Yeah, thanks.”  
  
“I hope you weren’t too bored, Ja’far”  
  
A chorus of gratitude followed the return of the other seven Generals and their leader, looking no worse for wear. Ja’far smiled tightly, hands tucked neatly into the opposite sleeve before him. He always looked like this, but the bruises had yet to fade.  
  
“Welcome back everybody.” Life would click back into place now, and he had no doubt a certain magi would be back to pester Sin again. But that wasn’t any of his concern now.  
  
“Anything interesting happen while we were gone?” That effusive smile chilled where it would have once warmed. He ignored it, slipping into his familiar role with ease.  
  
“Nothing of importance, your highness.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a poor amalgamation of several ideas, jokes, snatches of dialogue that I forced together into a semblance of a thing. I'll try to make as few excuses for myself, as I don't have very many. I just hope that you enjoyed it, and I really appreciate any and all feedback, on any aspect.


End file.
